


her heart's a-singing for you, darling

by kscho



Series: The Rose of Denerim [5]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Canon Dialogue, F/M, First Time, GET IT, GET ITTT, Oral Sex, Tent Sex, Vaginal Sex, hell yeah, the steamy bits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-16
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-10-29 20:59:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17815427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kscho/pseuds/kscho
Summary: "And so she learned to love not only herself, but he who looked at her as if she were the sun and stars of his life."Alistair and Rose's first night together.





	her heart's a-singing for you, darling

The day had windy, snowy, and overall miserable. Their troop trudged through the frosty Ferelden snow with hardly a word spoken between them. If anything, Rose wished her feet were at least somewhat warm. The constant walking kept them from freezing, but they were almost soaked to the bone from sweat and snow. Glancing behind her, Rose thought for a second that she didn’t envy the heavy armor-wearing men of their company. They were stuck walking in frozen plates and scales. Then again, at least their armor could ward off the worst of the wind.

After so much frozen torture, they tapped out. They set up camp quickly in the least snowy spot they could find in a small grove of trees that shielded them a little. Alistair and Zevran were sent out to find firewood while the rest of them pitched the tents and cleared away as much snow as they could. By the end, Rose was covered in a light sweat, but still as cold as ice. She folded her arms tightly across her chest and ducked into her own tent, Sebastian following her and settling down next to her bundled bedroll. She snickered and gave him a quick scratch behind the ears, unrolling her bedroll for him to lay on. He rolled on his back, wiggled around a bit on the thick covers, and let his tongue hang out of his mouth when he settled.

Emerging a few minutes later after stealing a few moments of warmth, Rose saw that Alistair and Zevran had returned with the firewood, and were working on getting a blaze going. It could have just been her imagination, but she could have sworn that Alistair’s face was more flushed than before, and not just due to the cold weather. She rolled her eyes when she spotted a clever smirk on Zevran’s lips. No doubt the Antivan had teased him when they were off by themselves. When the campfire had been officially set, Rose sat down next to Alistair and bumped her shoulder against his. He grinned at her and returned the gesture. They shared a chuckle.

She pulled him down to her level and whispered, “What did Zevran say to you?” she asked. He shrugged in response. “Come on, Alistair, you’re blushing. What did he say?”

He touched a cheek briefly before shrugging again. “I’ll tell you later. It’s nothing really.”

Leliana took the initiative of making a meal for them all. It was warm enough around the fire for an engaging conversation to be held. It included the weather, the cold, the weather again, wish after wishes for an in or at least a building to ward off the cold… It was bitter joking, but at least they could all see the humor in it. Zevran was particularly snappy about it all, going off on several tangents about the Fereldan weather in Antivan. It made Alistair and Rose laugh particularly hard, being veterans of the country’s cold winters.

One by one, and quickly, the others drifted off to bed, leaving her and Alistair to take the first watch of the night. Rose stood close to the fire, her feet almost in the makeshift pit as she struggled to warm them. “Cold?” Alistair asked.

“A true Fereldan girl never admits when she’s cold,” she joked with a smile. “I just wish I was a bit more dry. And I’m stiff all over from the cold.” She groaned “Maker, what I wouldn’t do for a hot bath.” She turned towards him and wrapped her arms around him. “Nevermind, you’re plenty warm.” It was a lie, of course. His plates were stone cold, but she could tell he appreciated the gesture. He held her close and kissed the crown of her head.

Feeling the lack of ebbing warmth, she pulled away to tend to the dying fire. As she worked to bring it back to roaring life, she could sense Alistair watching her. She glanced over her shoulder at him and was taken aback slightly. Had he ever looked at her like that before? She quickly averted her gaze, blushing furiously, ears falling. There had been something different compared to his normal sideways staring. Sure, she had caught him many times, looking at her when he thought no one else had noticed. Their companions had made a game of it to see who could notice it the most. It was an odd train, all of them glancing at him, and him glancing at her, and Rose just trying to ignore it as it was happening. Alistair would always immediately stare somewhere else and blush when he was called out. But what she had just seen was something  _ more _ . There had been a certain... _ want _ in his eyes, darkened by the lack of proper light.

Rose blushed deeper, guilty.  _ Fuck, _ she thought.  _ How long has it been since I stopped him that night?  _ When her demons had surfaced and clawed at her heart, threatening to run it out of her chest? She had nothing to fear from Alistair, but that hadn’t stopped the memories that day. They had dragged her back down into the darkness, into the tempest of suffering. She wanted him. The Maker Himself knew that more than anyone. But,  _ fuck _ , why was it so hard?

_ What if… _ she thought,  _ what if I was the one to ask. What if I led the dance. Would that make it easier. To hold the lead, to have a hand on some sort of control? _ She needed the security of knowing he would never hurt her. She thought it near impossible he would, but she needed to be absolutely sure. She needed…

“Fuck,” she hissed, burning her fingers from the heat. 

“Burn yourself?” Alistair asked from his seat on the log.

“Yeah. I’m fine, it’s just…” She ran a hand through her loose hair and rubbed her eyes. “Can we talk for a minute?”

Alistair looked surprised. “Well...we’re the only ones awake.”

She sat down next to him, straddling the log so she faced him directly. “I just need to say this out loud, to you, so that I can…” She made a frustrated sound, frowning. That furious tempest in her heart and mind couldn’t possibly be put into words, could it? Alistair reached out, taking her hands gently, placing a kiss on her knuckles.  _ I’m here, _ the gesture said.  _ And I’m here for you. _ “I love you,” she declared. “More than anything. And I’ve been thinking about us...and that night…”

“Oh.”

“And, uh…” She bit the inside of her lip. A bad habit she really needed to get rid of. She was fighting a losing battle with her tongue, the words she couldn’t simply spit out. She couldn’t say it. Not with words she didn’t have. Her ears twitched nervously as she shook her head, squared her jaw, and stood up. She stopped herself from throwing her legs around his waist as she straddled his hips. Before he could protest, ask questions, or even get a sound out, she kissed him. It took him a second or two to recover, but he quickly wrapped his arms around her. She ran her tongue greedily along his lips and he seemed all too happy to grant her access.

They kept it up for a while, the only sounds between us consisting of their lips and gasped breaths. Their hands trailed all over each other despite being blocked by armor.  Alistair gripped her hips, ghosting his hands over her chest, lacing his fingers through her hair to angle her head. Rose grasped at his shoulders, his arms, his bronze locks, anything to  _ feel him _ . She became lost in his touch, no longer caring for the world around them. She let herself to be carried away by the warmth of his mouth, the strength of his touch, the sounds of the tiny gasps and words he uttered. Her name fell from his lips more than once. She answered it with his, sighing every time as if were honey on her tongue.

Rose had no idea exactly how long they kept their embrace. Surely long enough to give anyone an eyeful, had they been watching. She was the one that broke it, her desire shifting from his ips to his eyes to see that look she had noticed before. The dark tinge of his own want at the edges of the brown, hugging his pupils. His cheeky lopsided smiles and smirks seemed to fail him in the moment. His lips were parted slightly, all red and swollen. He scanned her face and she did the same to his, admiring every inch of it, wanting to kiss every available space, every carefully hidden freckle across his nose.  _ Maker’s breath,  _ but she did love him so.

“Your tent?” was all she could say. “After our watch?”

“As long as you don’t mind the mess,” he joked, finally finding that smirk.

“For you?” She placed one last kiss on his lips. “Anytime.”

Although they restrained their hands from touching each other, their eyes had no such restrictions. A dozen rather sinful thoughts crossed her mind, all lacking clothing from her lover’s body. Judging from the way he failed to notice her staring, she was sure Alistair was having similar thoughts. When they noticed, they blushed, but never looked away. They knew what they wanted, and the prize was awaiting them in his tent. Rose’s anticipation seemed to grow with every passing minute. Few words were exchanged, but few words were needed.

“Are you sure?” Alistair asked tentatively, looking down at her with a concerned expression. “I mean, I think you’ve made yourself pretty clear, but I just want to know...In case you wanted to...you know…”

“I do,” she assured him. “And I’m sure. I want this. With you, and no one else. For tonight, hang the world.”

“Hang the world,” he echoed with a smile.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Sten emerged from his tent. He liked either taking watch alone or with Sebastian. Rose gave a soft whistle, calling her hound from her tent. He padded out, immediately finding a warm patch near the fire to flop down on. Normally, Rose would have yawned, given a quick peck of a kiss to Alistair, and retired to her own tent. Tonight couldn’t have been any more different. Sten, uninterested in the goings-ons between a human and an elf, settled down on the log and scratched Sebastian’s ears, giving enough distraction for Alistair and Rose to slip into the tent undetected. 

Inside, the silence was nearly unbearable. Her giddy enthusiasm was fading, giving way to uncertainty. They removed their armor in silence, each of them going at an even more careful pace than normal. Rose was all for throwing it off and tossing herself into the arms of sleep, but now, sith such a large step right in front of her, she took her sweet time. She laid her belongings carefully on the side, out of the way, and waited for Alistair to finish taking his off. 

“I wish this were easier,” she found herself saying once they were both down to their underclothes. She laughed nervously. “My hands might be shaking.” She curled her fingers into her palms. “Can I...um…” She edged closer to him and reached out to his shirt. He pulled it over his head, revealing his bare chest to her. It was hard to see without proper light, but there was no mistaking his defined muscles. She had seen him shirtless plenty of times, but being this close, this  _ intimate _ gave his form a whole new meaning to her. She absentmindedly ran her hands over his abdomen, determined to commit every rise and fall of definition to memory at some point.

Flinching away from her touch, Alistair stifled a giggle. “Tickles,” he hummed.

“Sorry,” she breathed, tucking a strand of hair behind her pointed ear. It was a mutual effort when they moved to sit and she shifted into his lap, once again capturing his lips for her own. Somehow, it was even more indifferent from what had occurred during their watch. Away from possibly prying eyes, their touches became eager, nearing frantic. Their tongues slid past each other and re-met with intensity, amplifying her desire. Without thinking, she rolled her hips forward, rewarded with a low groan from Alistair. She hadn’t missed the particular hardness she had felt against her body, either.  _ He enjoyed that, _ she noted, smiling. It built her confidence up, knowing she could do that to him with a simple move.

“If we’re to go any further, you’ll need to shed some clothing,” he hummed, tracing his lips across her jaw and down her neck, nipping lightly at her collarbone peeking out of her shirt. She gasped quietly, acutely aware of his fingers brushing the laces of her breastband beneath her shirt, looking into her eyes for permission. She tossed her top aside, guiding his hands as they unlaced her breastband together. She took a deep breath and held it, terrified. What if he didn’t like them? What if he thought they were too small. They had never been this far before. Uncharted territory, that was where they were heading to. She pulled the laces completely free and tossed the band aside, hands moving to cover herself. She closed her eyes, waiting for disappointment, rejection, anything besides…

Alistair leaned forward and kissed both of her cheeks with agonizing patience. He pressed his forehead against hers and sighed quietly, hovering his hands above hers, slowly pulling them away from her chest. Rose let out her held breath, trembling slightly. “It’s okay,” Alistair breathed. “You don’t have to hide yourself from me, Rosie. Can I?” She hesitated for probably too long, but eventually nodded, keeping her eyes tightly shut.  She held her breath again, waiting. 

“Maker’s breath, but you’re beautiful.” Her eyes flew open to stare at him. There was something in his eyes that made her feel... _ worthy. _ Worthy of love and affection. His look was that of reverence. Reverence of her.

“Really?” she chuckled nervously, tucking her hair away from her face, blushing. “I-”

Alistair hummed, pressing their foreheads together again. That grin, that wicked grin! “You were worried? Worried I wouldn’t love all of you?”

“Yes!” she exclaimed quietly. “Of course I was worried! You know how-” She clamped her mouth shut, shaking her head. “Of course you know. Do you really? Love all of me?”

“Well, I’ve yet to actually see  _ all _ of you, Rosie.”

She bit the inside of her lip. “Yes. Well. Should we fix that?”

“I think we should.” He leaned forward again and kissed her. Soft and chaste, but a total invitation that she would gladly accept. His mouth captured the sounds that came from her as his hands came up to cup her breasts, rolling and teasing her nipples. She felt small and not at all like the stoic rogue she was normally, but she adored the feeling.  To be loved and taken care of in her moments of hesitation and insecurity was every ounce of reassuring.

Rose’s hand drifted down his chest, fingers brushing over the strained bulge of his trousers. Alistair stuttered in his ministrations, nipping lightly at the top of her breast--eliciting a sharp gasp of pleasure from her--and skimmed his hands down her sides, resting at the waistband of her own pants. She was drunk on pleasure, lost in a haze of want and love. She moved out of his lap to undo the laces, pausing so Alistair could finish for her and pull the pants free from her legs. She pulled him close for a proper kiss. “I love you.”

He smiled down at her. “And I, you. Always.”

She grasped his hands and moved them to her smalls, giving a little nod. Together, they bared the rest of her body. The chilled Fereldan air hit her arousal, making her gasp slightly. She pushed them down the rest of the way with her feet, curling her toes in anticipation. Alistair’s lips once again resumed their earlier task of trailing down her neck, pausing briefly at her pulse point, but moving on to her chest, to the valley between her breasts, placing a kiss on each before taking a pert nipple in his mouth.

Maker, she ached for him. Her breath was reduced to pants as Alistair called all attention to her breasts. It was too much, not enough. Not fast enough, not hard enough. He seemed much too confident for this to be his first time. “You-ah!-sure you’ve never done this before?” she asked in a breathless tone.

“Quite sure,” he chuckled. His eyes fell on an ugly crescent scar above her right knee, about four inches long. “Where did this come from?”

“Ostagar. I don’t really remember...I think it was...the top floor. The ogre? At least, that’s when I noticed it.” She giggled. “First one of many, right?”

Alistair grinned. “I think I have you beat, Rosie.” He leaned in again and claimed her lips with his, moving to his knees and gently pushing her on her back. Her legs instinctively spread to frame his hips. They smiled against each other’s lips. Some things came naturally, it seemed.

Her head dropped back with a sharp inhale as his fingers tentatively met her folds. She wanted to curse so bad, but she swallowed any words, too enamored with the attention between her legs. She propped herself up on her elbows for a better view.

“C-Can you show me?” Alistair stuttered. “How to, uh, touch you?”

“Okay,” she breathed nearly inaudibly. She reached down and guided Alistair’s fingers to the sensitive nub that brought out a sudden gasp from her.  _ Maker’s cursed ass, this is a thousand times better than my own hands, _ she exclaimed inwardly. “Right there,” she sighed. “Just-ahh…” Her arms dropped out from under her and she clutched at the bedroll beneath her as pleasure rocketed through her blood. His fingers felt like magic.

“Sweet Maker,” she heard him say. Rose gripped the pillow beneath her head, all too ready to drown herself in his attention. Then his fingers ceased, and she nearly sat up in protest until they were replaced with something hot and wet.

“Fuck!”  _ Maker’s breath, his tongue! There’s no way I can go back to my own hands after this.  _ Alistair moved a leg over his broad shoulders to get a better angle. Her back arched off the bedroll as as she squirmed.  _ How in the world does he know- _ Her head swam and heat pooled in her gut. She tried her best to muffle gasps, moans, any sort of sounds that their companions would tease them for the next few days,  _ at least. _ She was failing spectacularly, finding that letting the sounds go free was far more satisfactory than a silent alternative.

An inquisitive finger traced the edge of her sex before gently pressing inside of her. Her back arched further, her legs fighting against her will to squeeze around Alistair’s head. A second finger joined the first. The heat intensified, her mind doing one final flip before her body was flung over that gilded edge. Alistair curled his fingers against a spot Rose had never been able to reach properly, forcing her to ride out the waves of orgasm. She had no idea what fell from her lips, whether it had been a curse or a prayer, his name, or simply a cry of pleasure, but she let it go without a second thought.

Somewhere in the back of her bliss-drunk mind, she felt his hands still on her. She gasped for air, bared chest heaving toward the ceiling of the tent. As she drifted down from her high, her legs relaxed around Alistair’s head. Her panting slowed, her heart slowly returned to its normal speed, and she smiled as she felt his hands caressing her skin as he made his way back up her body. She immediately responded when she felt his lips on hers, grasping at his shoulders to pull him closer than he could physically be.

“Wow,” she exhaled in a giddy gone. “Where in the world did m sheltered Chantry boy learn to do  _ that _ with his tongue?”

Rose could feel the heat rise to his face as she held it. “I am  _ hardly _ a sheltered Chantry boy,” he stated with a sheepish grin, tapping the tip of her nose. “I disobeyed the Chantry at every opportunity when I was a kid. And...I  _ did _ listen to Leliana when she all but threatened me with some...advisements.”

“Remind me to thank her,” she hummed, kissing him. She thumbed his warmed cheeks. “I think it’s your turn now, love.” She kissed him again. “If...that’s what you want?”

“Yes,” he replied huskily. “I love you. Maybe it’ll be easier if you...uh...move how you, um, want to.” Rose nodded and sat up, her hands bumping against his as they undid the laces to his trousers. He laid back to shuffle them down his muscled legs, his erection springing free. She tried not to stare, but she had never seen a man full naked before, and all hers to admire. Sure, all of them had disrobed at the Gauntlet, but Rose had averted her eyes as much as Alistair had. Seeing him as bare as he was was something else. Her heart was hammering in her chest, begging to break free.

“You’re really good looking,” was all she could choke out.

Alistair chuckled. Following her instincts, she shifted so she was straddling his legs once again. Before she could blurt out anything embarrassing or incomprehensible, she leaned forward and kissed him. His hands, skimming up and down her back, her sides, rounding on her breasts, felt like electricity. Rocking her hips against his erection granted her a delicious moan from his lips. She grinned and nudged his forehead with hers for a second.

“Ready?”she asked.

“I don’t know,” Alistair admitted.

“Me neither,” she chuckled. “Care to find out together.”

“Together it is.” He smiled sweetly and pecked a kiss on the tip of her nose, making her giggle. They both moaned quietly at the touch of each other. She took a few deep breaths. “I’ve heard it could hurt, that you could bleed if I’m not gentle or too fast or...or…”

“I trust you,” she promised him, kissing him. “Your lead, Warden Alistair.”

He moved his hands to her hips and she moved with his guidance, moving her weight onto her knees as they lined up. She bit her lip as if it were a fine science. She let out a calculated breath and lowered herself onto his length, turning it into a hiss at the stretch and slight discomfort. She stopped her descent for a moment, knees trembling, jerking her head slightly before seating herself all the way. She let out a harsh sigh and rested her forehead to his shoulder. “Maker,” was all she could get out, heaving for breath.

Alistair grunted. “Okay there, love? Does it...does it hurt?”

“No,” she answered truthfully. “It’s...different…” She couldn’t help it as a whimper escaped her. “Maker,” she exclaimed again. “Wow.”

“Good different or bad different?” His voice sounded strained, like he was struggling for control.

Rose gave an experimental roll of her hips, conjuring a low moan from both of them. “Good,” she chuckled. “Definitely.” She bit her lip again and gasped as she continued, moving at her own comfort. Alistair’s hands drifted from her hips to her breasts, working them as she held his face steady to kiss him.

Everything. It was everything. Hell, it was far  _ more _ than everything.

“Maker’s breath, I love you.”

All she could manage as a reply was a harsh exhale. She let out a hushed curse of pleasure as their hips finally found an equal rhythm. She let her eyes flutter closed as Alistair’s lips found her neck. Every few seconds he would stifle a moan against her skin or whisper her name. She was blinded with pleasure, all other sensed drowned out as she allowed myself to simply feel. The feeling of his cock thrusting in and out of her, the roughness of the calluses on his hands as they gripped her hips, her arse, squeezed her breasts, and his nipping teeth followed by a velvet tongue to soothe the ache. Rose yelped in a wave of striking pleasure as I felt his thumb part my folds and slowly circle around her clit. Her breath came in pants, each dying to let loose a curse or a moan but always denied by her lingering will.

It was finally too much. Nearly clawing at Alistair’s back, she came hard around him, stifling her guttural groan in the crook of his neck.

“I-I can’t--I just--” Without further warning, Alistair slipped a hand around her back and flipped them. The sudden jolt and different angle made her cry out sharply. He tried to pull away, to make sure he hadn’t hurt me, but Rose pulled him back, kissing him sloppily and breathlessly assuring him she was fine.

“Don’t you dare stop,” she gasped.

Rose was lost in a tempest of pleasure, pushed and pulled this way and that as she fought to remember where she was. She was in Alistair’s tent, having sex with the man himself. She would have laughed at herself had she not been so preoccupied. Thoughts beyond those simple facts were lost to her, overshadows by waves and waves of pleasure. She bit her lips to muffle gasps, moans, cries, any sound not fit for the middle of the night. Her legs instinctively came up to wrap around his waist, pulling him deeper. Alistair’s thrusts stuttered at the new angle. His hot pants of breath rained down on her skin along with beads of sweat. He leaned down to capture her mouth, sliding his tongue against hers hungrily. She answered with her own ferocity, moving her hips against his in encouragement.

“ _ Maker’s breath, _ ” he gasped, driving hard into her. She bit down on his shoulder a little harder than intended to muffle another cry. Alistair nearly growled at the pain, pulling his head down for a second before taking a deep breath and adjusting his weight to hit her  _ just right _ .

Tears of intense pleasure fell from her eyes as they squeezed shut. She tried to call out, curse maybe, but the only sound that came from her was a strangled sound as she suddenly remembered to breathe.  She could feel the reels she was raking into Alistair’s back as her legs flexed through her orgasm to pull him closer. With one final, quieted groan, Alistair’s hips snapped against hers one final time as he himself came after her. He fell on his elbows, face a mere inch from hers, breathing heavily as they drifted far, so far. The heat of their breath was hotter than she ever thought possible. She chuckled weakly and kissed him. Slowly, like lovers did, because of course they were.

“Are you here?” Rose whispered with a sly smirk, her eyes still closed. Her answer was another kiss. Then a nudge of his head against hers how she always liked.

“Always for you,” he replied. With effort, he propped himself up higher and looked down at her, smiling lazily.

Despite the slow exit, they still hissed in unison at the loss each other. Almost as if something was missing. Something one didn’t realize they had lost. Alistair moved to lay down beside her as she turned toward him, finding his lips again as his arm curled around her waist. After a few moments, his hand drifted up to her face, his thumb brushing her cheeks.

“Maker's breath!” he exclaimed quietly. “Rosie, you're  _ crying _ . I hurt you, didn't I? Shit, I thought I was-”

“Alistair,” she said, catching his attention. “You didn’t hurt me. I’m just...happy.” She grinned. “Besides, it’s never felt like  _ that _ before.”

“Like...good?”

“So good I’m certain it was incredibly sinful,” she joked, leaning into his touch as he brushed back a stray lock of hair. He chuckled and touched her nose with his.

“Good. Good.” He chuckled again. “You know, according to all the sisters at the monastery, I should have been struck by lightning by now.”

Rose laid her head down on his shoulder, curled in the crook of his arm as he shifted onto his back. “That so?”

“Yep. Lightning first, then the end of civilization as we know it.” His tone shifted toward a slight, sarcastic pout. “I’m a bad, bad man.” Rose giggled and kissed his exposed chest, happy for the moment to let him brush his fingers through her hair. “You do realize the rest of our little party here is going to talk, right? They do that.”

She shook her head. “First smart comment and I feed them to the darkspawn.”

Alistair laughed, covering his mouth with his hand. “See? This is why I love you.” He sighed happily and kissed her temple. “So, what now? Where do we go from here?”

She turned to look up at him, a coy smile playing on her lips. “For now, I have no objections to going again.”

Alistair smirked and waggled his eyebrows at her. “Alright, fair enough. And then?”

Scooting up, Rose kissed him. “And then I’m never letting you go, because I love you.”

He was already brushing his hand against her inner thigh. “Sounds good to me. All of it. Especially the ‘I love you’ part.”


End file.
